


Denial

by lod



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 19:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16102133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lod/pseuds/lod
Summary: Written for tumblr prompt "I'm in love...shit" + Yutaba. Not too happy with it but hey, at least I wrote something, which is more than I've been managing to for the last few weeks.





	Denial

Futaba and Akira were 3 hours and 2 plates into their afternoon of retro gaming and curry-eating, and Futaba had been trouncing him well and good at Power Intuition and Punch Ouch. That must have been why he suddenly decided to use dirty distraction techniques to try to win a match.

“So, when are you going to ask Yusuke out?”

Futaba jumped so high she knocked over the chair she was sitting on and fell down, prompting Akira to rush over to make sure she was ok. She shoved his well-meaning hands off, blushing a deep scarlet.

“Why would I do that?!”

Wasn’t Akira supposed to be super perceptive? He must be off his game if he thought Futaba had any interest in Yusuke. Which part of him was supposed to be attractive to her? The beanpole physique? The propensity for drinking paint water? The continuous flow of supremely boring art discussions? The horrible dietary habits? (Not that Futaba had much room to talk, but at least she  _ate_ , which was more than some people could say.) She stood up, brushing herself off, and glared at Akira. If he wanted to play matchmaker, he could go do that with Ann, or Haru, or hell, even Makoto would be a better target for his unnecessary meddling than Futaba.

“Because you’re into him?” he asked like it was some sort of obvious fact while he picked the chair up, proving that for all his interpersonal skills he really could be quite dense.

“No I’m not,” Futaba replied as she dropped onto the couch, assuming the conversation would end there. She’d had quite enough of fighting games for now; maybe it was time for round three of the curry…

“Coulda fooled me.”

Her head snapped up. So he wasn’t going to drop it. She sighed; Akira could be so persistent when he thought he was right, and she really had better things to do with her evening than explain to him why Yusuke wasn’t remotely attractive to her. Things like… cut her toenails. Or trim her split ends. Or maybe even color-code her closet. Anything had to be better.

She could feel her face still flooded with heat; she hated that that was her automatic reaction to awkward situations, and now Akira was going to read it as a  _sign_  or something, and had he gotten into Ryuji’s weird romantic manga stash again?

“I mean, you two hang out together all the time,” he continued.

Well, of course they did; Yusuke spent a large amount of his free time at Leblanc’s, and so did Futaba. He said it was for the atmosphere which “inspired the creative mind,” but she was pretty sure it was mostly because Sojiro always ended up feeding him when his stomach growled too loudly.

As for Futaba, since she didn’t go to school, it was either the cafe or her empty house, and since her change of heart she found that she appreciated being around other people sometimes. Not all the time, of course — she was still an introvert, nothing would change that, and closing the door onto her silent, quiet,  _empty_  bedroom was as relaxing as a hot bath after an excessively long day in the Metaverse. But sometimes, it was nice, having a few living, breathing people around to reminder her she wasn’t alone anymore.

And of course she often ended up talking with Yusuke; he was usually the only person under thirty in the cafe, and even his endless explanations of art movements couldn’t be as bad as discussing politics with the close-minded old regulars. If she got him on the right subject he could even be rather entertaining. He had a way of making scathing, offhand remarks without even appearing to realise it; sometimes it was like reading an oblivious snark blog and it took all she had not to laugh out loud, which inevitably broke the spell as he asked, completely confused, what was funny about the fiscally irresponsible choices of his classmate.

So clearly  _that_  didn’t mean anything. She opened her mouth to tell Akira as much, but he spoke first.

“Didn’t you even take him out to dinner the other day?”

She frowned. Take him out to… oh, right. She’d noticed he looked even paler than usual, with greenish undertones to his skin that he usually didn’t have unless he’d accidentally gotten paint on his face — not that she was paying any specific attention to his usually porcelain tone or perfectly blemish-free appearance. When she’d asked whether he was sick he’d told her to “please, not worry on his behalf,” which was the best way to make anyone worry.

(Futaba had read about reverse psychology, and decided that she was immune to that sort of mind manipulation trick. Therefore, the fact that she often felt the need to do the opposite of what she was told was simply her asserting her right to make her own decisions, and had nothing to do with any sort of psychology, reverse or otherwise.)

“When was the last time you ate something else than curry?” she’d asked him.

“Hmm… oh, yes, I had some bean sprouts on Monday. They were quite refreshing.”

“That… that was three days ago, Inari.”

“Well, I do have to wait for them to grow back. If I eat them too quickly, then there will be none left.”

Futaba had stared at him. It was a miracle he didn’t have scurvy at this point, really, and even if he was obnoxious and exasperating he was also a key member of the team. His ice skills were unmatched, so it would be a problem if he ended up in the hospital or on bed rest because he got less vitamins than a pirate from the 1700s. Figuring she could do something helpful for the team for once, she’d dragged him out to the closest restaurant that served salads and forced him to eat at least 3 different veggies, and also made him get a smoothie at the station on the way home too. He’d been excessively grateful, thanking her over and over, but he always acted like that around food. It hadn’t been a date or anything, just a smart tactical decision for the team.

“Then there’s the way you always hold his hand when we’re outside.”

Futaba blushed. That one  _was_  weird, she had to give Akira that. She’d just about fainted from embarrassment the first time Yusuke’d grabbed her wrist to drag her along in a crowd, but it had been a very efficient way to get through it quickly without getting lost — he had such long legs, she often had trouble keeping up. From then on, she’d started grabbing his hand anytime they were in a crowded area, and maybe when they weren’t too. It wasn’t some sort of romantic thing; she just felt safer that way. His warm hand in hers reminded her that she wasn’t alone, like a physical memento of the whole team’s support, and made it easier to deal with the slew of fears she still had. And if she’d started interlacing their fingers, that was only because their grip felt more secure that way. It had nothing to do with how soft his fingertips were against the back of her hand.

“And when we’re in the Metaverse, you always cast your support spells on him first.”

Now Futaba was getting annoyed. Had Akira been studying her or something? This was starting to sound like an interrogation, and he wasn’t letting her get a word in edgewise. He was wrong, and that was that. Did she boost or heal Yusuke first? Well, he was taller, so he probably just attracted her skill to him automatically; after all, she was casting them from above, so that would make sense. Or maybe he was the most injured, which meant he needed her help the most, and was she supposed to ignore that just because Akira would get weird notions if she didn’t? Clearly it wasn’t like she was doing it on purpose.

“But the main reason I asked, is that lately you’ve only made time to hang out with me when  _he_ ’s not available.”

“How do you know when he’s available?”

“I  _am_  the leader, of this team, you know. I have all your calendars memorized so I can choose the best days to take us into the Metaverse,” he replied, ruffling her hair. “For example, I know Fridays are bad because that’s when your favorite anime airs and you’ll be distracted the whole time over missing it.”

“I am not — anyway, that’s not true, I don’t pick him over you!”

“Really? So you could have seen Yusuke tonight, but you came here?”

“Well, no, he’s at an art show, but that’s not the point! Anyway, I know  _you’re_  only here because Ryuji’s busy with his mom today, so you’re one to talk!” She stuck her tongue out at him, proud of her retort.

“Ah, but I have no issue admitting I love Ryuji,” he replied with a smug smile.

Futaba froze, and all her thoughts from the last fifteen minutes suddenly caught up with her. She spent all her time with him. She found him entertaining to listen to even though he was, objectively, really boring. She was familiar enough with his appearance to notice a slight change and worried about his health to the point of buying him dinner. She liked to hold his hand, felt safe in public when he was around, unconsciously prioritized him for support spells if Akira was to be believed, and would always choose hanging out with him over anyone else.

She slid limply off the couch into a pile on the ground, hiding her head against her knees.

“I’m in love… Shit!”

She heard Akira come to sit down next to her, and lifted her head to look at him when he laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Why him? Why me? Why? I never asked for this!”

Akira shrugged. “If you find out, let me know. I still can’t understand why I fell for my dorky best friend with the terrible fashion sense instead of one of the many gorgeous girls who throw themselves at me daily,” he said, trademark flirty smile on his lips as he posed with a hand beneath his chin.

She swatted at him and rolled her eyes. “You absolute narcissist.”

“I can’t help that I was born beautiful,” he said with a silly, over exaggerated pout, before smirking in a dangerously playful way. “So, back to my original question. When are you going to ask him out?”

“Never, oh my god, Akira!” Not in a million damn years. There was no change of heart strong enough to give her the courage for  _that_ , and obviously Yusuke didn’t like her back, so there was no point, and —

Akira was pulling his phone out, and she jumped at him. “Don’t you dare tell him! Or anyone else!”

He pushed himself away from her with his hands up, one holding his phone with the screen towards her. “I wasn’t going to, I just got a message!”

She looked at the screen suspiciously. There did seem to be a notification from the Phantom Thieves chat dating back just a few seconds. Still…

“If you tell anyone, I’ll send your full chat history with Ryuji to the group chat,” she threatened.

His gasp, entirely genuine, made her wonder if she ought to check it, then just as quickly realise the last thing she wanted to do was check it. “You wouldn’t!”

_“Try me.”_


End file.
